


shades of green

by mxtrivity, pluiedons



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Coldplay References, Confessions, Dreams, Falling In Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kind of an au? we changed how they meet, Love Confessions, M/M, More tags to be added, Mutual Pining, Pining, Third Wheel Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), What else is new, as usual, basically sapnap is god thats what we're saying, just a smidge of angst, sapnap doing gods work, switching between dreams and reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxtrivity/pseuds/mxtrivity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluiedons/pseuds/pluiedons
Summary: think: warm, green, pollen in the air, an open clearing littered with trees and flowersthink: it's just a dream
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	shades of green

**Author's Note:**

  * For [F. Scott Fitzgerald](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=F.+Scott+Fitzgerald).



> lets hope this doesnt blow up bc the updating schedule is gonna be garbage aha fuckkkkk <3
> 
> this is also for fun!! we don't actually ship them lol
> 
> also please dont criticize us we cannot handle it and will cry and delete this LMAO /j
> 
> -r & h

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> purple, yellow, and most of all green.  
> what is this place?  
> where am i?

_The heat comes first and it’s warm, everything is so warm. His skin, the air surrounding him, it’s hot and humid. It ripples through his body, this warmth, and he feels light like he’s floating. Floating through the sea, rising and falling with each wave. It’s a numbing sensation, it pricks at his fingers and legs. He smells the aroma of sweet, succulent flowers, and it is all so unfamiliar. He gains consciousness slowly, his eyes are squeezed shut as he tries to adjust to the bright rays from the sun that try to slip past his eyelids. There’s a rough, grainy texture against his back, making a shiver travel down his spine._

_What the hell is that? He cringes and curls his fingers. He feels dirt beneath his hands, which shouldn’t be there. Everything feels foreign. Opening his eyes, he’s greeted with a small clearing, it’s filled with lush weeping lovegrass, framed by many different trees. And the sky sparkles as a bright baby blue, no clouds in sight. It is a clear and sunny day. The grass surrounding him sways back and forth in the wind, curling itself around his legs and feet. Finally, he notices that the grass around him doesn’t look like grass usually does, though, he’s never seen grass this color. It hurts his eyes to just look at the blades, the shades of green shimmering in the sunlight._

_It shocks him, and he soon recognizes that the rough texture against his back is a large oak tree, one among the others surrounding the circular glade that he’s currently in. The barks' edges that are just sharp enough dig into his spine, begging to leave behind marks. He releases the dirt from his hands and uses the wooden base as a crutch. He stands, sliding his hand up the bark, and looks around. He brushes the dirt and chipped bark off of his palms and back, running his fingers over the spots left on his hands._

_As he stares at the indents in his skin, his eyes return to the grass cuddled up to his feet. It hits him like whiplash, that he’s no longer colorblind, and that he can see colors, all of them, right before his eyes. He turns to stare at the different shades of green on the leaves of the trees, the brown woven in and out on each individual piece of bark. He watches the pale green grass softly swaying while the yellow and purple flowers litter and mingle in the clearing._

_He carefully steps past the shade of the oak tree and makes his way towards the flowers in the glade, he admires it and compares the colors, in awe of being able to tell the yellows and greens apart. He crouches down and runs a finger over the petals of a yellow flower, ever so gently to not distress it. They’re soft, there's pollen stuck to his finger and pollen that floats in the breeze, resting on his shirt. He catches the scent of lavender in the wind, deciding that's what the purple flowers he sees must be. Looking towards the other flower, whose color is bright yellow, he’s not sure what type of flower it is. But the way each petal curved, that leads to a rounded pistil, it slightly resembles that of a daisy but the petals are too different to be one. He decides to call them that anyway, for lack of anything better._

_None of this can be real, he thinks. Closing his eyes, he pinches himself, scrunching his face slightly at the unwelcoming feeling. He waits, trying to feel the familiar cotton material of his sheets. So far as to reach his hands out to grasp them. But he can feel the wind twirl and twist around each finger, through the ends of his hair and the sun is still hot on his back and the air feels thick, he’s still here. Still stuck in the open field, welcomed by lavender and daisies._

_An uneasy feeling washes over him, bile rises in his stomach. His throat is dry, as he swallows, trying to hydrate. It feels so serene but how does he leave? The feeling is suffocating. He is scared and confused, he doesn’t understand, how did he get here? Why can he see colors like everyone else? What is this place? Will he be able to return home?_

_Opening his eyes finally and standing, he looks around once more. There’s nothing else here, other than flowers, trees, and grass, a lot of grass. It’s calm, only the sound of the breeze weaving through every blade of grass and leaf. It feels like he has wandered into a reality that is only a dream. It’s tangible, he can reach out and grab it, he can taste it on his tongue. But this can’t be real, It is only a dream. It’s fucked up to give him false hope, to give him a taste of something so sweet, like honey. It’s unintentional really, how much he is panicking. It is only a dream. He realizes but he feels at peace, it’s conflicting, He’s so uncomfortable with this unknown paradise but its nature is so soothing, his feelings are muddled and confused._

_Light gray clouds slowly dip into the baby blue sky, and the wind, which is oh so light strengthens. The wilted and weak flowers lose their petals and the yellow pollen is visible in the air as it floats. A low rumbling begins in the distance, just loud enough for him to hear. He seemingly ignores the change of weather, his emotions are consuming him, overwhelming him._ I just need to relax. _He says to himself, breathing in deep, letting it settle in his lungs and expels the air._

_He focuses his attention on the foreign yellow flowers. He spends a while admiring the different colors of the unknown flowers comparing them to the Lavender in the field. Being opposite of each other on the color wheel, the yellows and purples contrast blends well together. The clouds scatter in the sky, leaving behind thin streaks of white as the wind and thunder calm down. And as the pollen settles, the sweet scent of the lavender and mysterious flower converge and mix, permeating the air once more._

_With such distracting thoughts, he loses his grasp of time, focusing on each individual color, on each individual vein. The deep yellows that round at the tips of the flower, the dip at each tip, the thin stem that holds up multiple flowers, some still buds. He finds peace in the intricacy of each petal, and eventually, he is calm._

_Blinking, the air around him shifts, the atmosphere feels heavy and tense, so thick it smothers him. There is someone else here with him. Almost like echolocation, he can sense the silhouette of a person behind him a few yards away. It feels as though even the flowers recognize the arrival. Turning around on his heels, an unknown person is standing a few yards away from him. They face away from him while the wind slowly dances around them, enough to move their dirty blonde hair around, presumably playing in it._

_It stuns him, how did he get here with some stranger? Or how did this stranger get to him? He goes to call out, to ask who this man is, but no sound comes out. He places a hand at his own throat, trying to speak again. The feeling is strange, he feels the vibration of every word he wants to say but soon realizes it's useless. His heartbeat picks up, his hands feel clammy. What would he even say? “Hey, how did you get in my dream?!” Conveniently, the stranger glances over their shoulder. The stranger turns then to face him, locking eyes. He can't help but notice their eyes, a lovely shade of green, seemingly staring into his soul._

_They stand, facing each other in silence, it’s deafening. With no words they cannot communicate, it's uncomfortable and awkward. But this does not bother the stranger, them closing their eyes after a beat, a serene look passing over their face. When their eyes open again, he’s stunned once more by the vibrant green shade of their irises. The slight sparkle they give off as the sun bounces off them is mesmerizing. They still don’t seem affected by being here, though, looking almost pleased to be in this place. And what more could he do? Maybe he should surrender himself to this dream as the stranger did. They seemed to cope quickly with the change of scenery._

_He would never admit it but he was a tad bit jealous, this stranger handled themself with a bit more dignity. If he could have, he would’ve ran around the clearing but that’d be extremely embarrassing. So he turns to the tranquil scenery which is enough to distract him from any internal crisis, nothing bad could happen here._

_Right? Especially with someone else here? Maybe he could sacrifice them if it came down to that._

_Resigning himself to being stuck here with a stranger, he sits back down, returning back to his place under the large oak tree. The grass flattens easily under his weight, like feathers against his fingertips._ It makes a nice cushion, _he thinks. Looking at the flowers again, he vaguely remembers reading something online about flowers having different meanings, having their own language, but he didn’t pay enough attention to the article to know any of the meanings._ Roses meant love _, he thinks,_ and there aren’t any of those here, thank God. _Looking out at the field, he wonders what flowers these are. He thinks that maybe he should’ve taken up that job at the flower shop on the corner of the street, remembering how eager that girl was to get him to come in. Or at least grabbed the pamphlet that outlined the many types of flowers._

_The other person remains standing, looking around the clearing, turning in a slow circle. Most likely still admiring the scenery as he once did. The stranger seems to finally finish looking around, gaze stopping on him, and again he is struck by the strong emerald green of their eyes. The other sits down at a distance, once again facing him. His skin goes warm under the gaze, shoulders hunching up, and forcefully paying attention only to the flowers and grass in front of him. The awkward air is back in full force, making him hunch forward, even more, he can feel sweat start to form on his face and in uncomfortable places, the heat of the air in this... dream?_

_Is this a dream? He didn’t wake up when he pinched himself, but then how did he get here? And how could he see colors? He ponders on this, forgetting his original thought. He decides that this is, in fact, a dream, and slowly he looks up to the other man. If this is a dream, then that means that this man is also a dream, not real. He wonders if this man has concluded that this place is a dream. But if this is such, he should be able to talk, he should be able to alter reality. You can do whatever the hell you want in dreams right?_

_Right?_

_Opening his mouth to talk once more, to ask who this man is, or why he isn’t waking up, nothing comes out, yet again. It’s driving him mad, he has never felt such a strong urge to scream and yell, to cry. To lose his voice from the raw emotion in each word but he cannot speak. He ultimately decides he cannot talk, and that he just needs to accept that._

_He rolls his eyes, hand moving down to pick at the grass, digging his fingers deep into the dirt, he needs to calm his nerves. The other man seems to sense his frustration and does the same, tearing up the grass. He thinks maybe the other is trying to show his support, in his own weird little way. He would find it somewhat endearing if he had any idea who this man was. He laughs inside his head, face still angry. He had heard that the people you see in dreams are the faces of people you’ve seen in real life, though he doesn’t recognize this person. He marks it off as him being someone he’s seen in the street before, walking past without a second glance, and moves on from the thought. Yet those emerald eyes and golden locks were so unfamiliar, he couldn’t mark it off._

_Those eyes were hypnotic, it felt like they could see into him. That they could see everything he has ever done, although he has never done anything illegal. It felt like they were prying into him, wanting to learn his deepest and darkest secrets. It’s unbearable, he can feel them, he feels like he’s being undressed or groped by those eyes._

_He suddenly looks up, stares into green eyes. He can’t handle it, staring straight into those eyes, they seemed to pierce into his soul, picking him apart. It’s much worse to stare into them, rather than think of them. It felt like he was burning, as they drilled into his own brown eyes, and a painful pounding began in his head. Standing, he takes a step back, looking around the clearing once more. The gaze is suffocating him, he feels the shortness of breath coming back. This startles the stranger, they look up towards him, a questioning look in their eyes._

_Taking another step back, he starts off towards the forest. The stranger stands then, as well, most likely confused. Paying the other man no attention, he breaks into a run towards the dense forest, suddenly desperate to escape. His strides are long and fast, he’s precise and he wants to create distance. He doesn’t want to find comfort in this glade, or that stranger. He wants to be home, in his bed, curled up around his sheets._

_A dense fog rolls in, the air becoming colder. Goosebumps form on his arms, and he loses a few feet of vision. His footsteps are less precise and he hits a few thin branches, the crunching of leaves reverberate through his skull. He breaks the tree line and immediately skids to a stop, almost eating dirt. The trees around him seem to shift and glow, and he has to close his eyes. When he opens them again, he finds himself back in the same clearing, only now he’s behind the other man, and studying the tree line. Trying to peek around the thick trunks, arms on their hips. He goes to step backward but steps on a twig, alerting the other man of his presence._

_The stranger turns to face him, offering a sympathetic look. Panicking more, he spins around, taking off in the direction he came. The trees around him are bright once more, forcing him to close his eyes or risk a headache. The fog around the glade grows thicker with each passing second, panic rising, he can’t quite catch a breath. Stumbling out into the clearing again, he can’t stand it. He trips over the thick lovegrass, although it makes for a soft landing, his head is pounding. He scrambles to sit up, chest heaving and shoulders shaking. The other carefully approaches him, seemingly unsure of what to do, a little concerned for his health._

_His cheeks light up, bright red, he’s embarrassed. He’s highly aware that this random man just watched him essentially do a front flip into grass._

_He feels faint, it’s incredibly hot under his shirt, sweat drips down his face and back. It’s uncomfortable. He blinks rapidly as his vision clouds with black orbs. His heartbeat is in his ears and he loses it, his consciousness. He falls backward, he faintly hears the shuffling of someone's feet. He realizes the other person has approached him now. They give him ample support as he leans forward, inherently pushing them out of the way. They tip backward but regain balance as he digs his trembling hands into the dirt, trying to rid the feeling of vertigo. He feels like he’s going to puke. His shirt is drenched in sweat and ripped blades of grass, his arms are a mess with tiny cuts, and similar to his shirt, tiny blades stick to his damp arms._

_A hand hovers over his back before gently pressing down, gently kneading across his shoulders, offering comfort. If it weren’t for the overwhelming nausea he would scramble to get away from the hand but it was easing the tension._

_He blinks rapidly, heaving but it doesn’t stop the cloudiness. The black swallows his vision whole, he falls to the ground again. He feels his body roll over and he can feel the panic in the arms that shake him._

_He blinks once, slowly, and he can just barely catch a glimpse of those green eyes before promptly passing out._

**Author's Note:**

> flower meanings:  
> yellow marguerite I come soon  
> lavender- distrust
> 
> note: if there are any errors, please ignore them, we simply cannot handle this anymore <3


End file.
